


The Queen of Carven Stone

by fellowshipofthefandoms



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Dis is a badass, Implied Bagginshield, M/M, Post-BOFA, basically a feminist rant, but sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 14:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4395848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fellowshipofthefandoms/pseuds/fellowshipofthefandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the letter arrived in the Blue Mountains Dís set out immediately. Her kin needed her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Queen of Carven Stone

Dís didn't feel any different, although she knew something must be wrong. The letter she received was written in an unfamiliar hand, and the name signed at the bottom, Bilbo Baggins, was one she did not recognize. It told of heroic warriors fighting in a great battle of five armies. She raised her eyebrows when she read the dwarves had allied themselves with both elves and men.

Nine days prior a different letter had arrived, spurring the dwarves of the Blue Mountains to head towards Erebor. Dís had gathered a small group of her best fighters and set out at once. She knew her brother would be a rather hopeless king without her there to help him.

The most recent letter gave no details of the outcome of the battle other than stating the orcs were defeated. Dís was still many weeks away from Erebor and the shaky script on the page and the seemingly purposeful evasion of any personal news concerned her. She called to her caravan to quicken the pace. There was not a doubt in her mind her presence would soon be needed.

They rode for many weeks, only stopping to break camp. Some nights Dís would be too restless to sleep and she would wake the camp so they could continue on. She could tell they were drawing near because of the ravages countryside and the smell of fire. Dís knew the telltale signs of battle and the all too familiar scent of burnt bodies. She held up her arm to halt her followers once she reached the crest of a steep hill.

The field laid out before her was dry and dead and covered in ashes. The desolation stretched from the hill to the foot of the mountain. Erebor was truly a sight to behold, outwardly untouched from the destruction, save the broken gate, and Dís smiled faintly at the thought of finally returning home.

She travelled down the slope and took in the barren land around her. It had to have been at least two months since the battle and all of the cleaning and burials had already been seen to. Dís made straight for the mountain, making a mental note to pass through Dale at some point. She would have to speak to the men and elves and smooth over any blunders Thorin had made.

There was a cry from the battlements as the watchmen atop the outer wall spied Dís and her company. A small party was sent out to meet her. She was pleased to see Dwalin and Balin approaching her, but she frowned slightly in confusion when she saw what appeared to be a curly haired child striding beside them.

"Welcome, princess," Balin said with a bow. Always with the pleasantries.

"It is good to see you Balin," she said with a smile "but could we skip the formalities? I simply wish to see my family." 

None in the party spoke, but the way their faces fell was the only explanation she needed. "Take me to them," she said, now knowing what she would find.

"I'll take her, Balin," the one she had mistaken for a child spoke. He had the features of an adult, although he had a round face and was almost a head shorted than she. There was something in his eyes, a steeliness of someone who had seen horrors and lost a great deal.

"Lead on," she said, meeting his gaze.

"I’m Bilbo, Bilbo Baggins," he said as he gestured for her to follow.

"Thank you for the letter, although I noticed you left out most details."

"I thought details would be best left for you to see for yourself." A chill ran her through like a blade. She should have prepared for the worst, but somehow all she could think about was how much Thorin would have mucked up by the time she got there.

Bilbo walked through the halls of Erebor with practiced ease. Dís realized they were headed towards the hall of the kings and her heart skipped a beat. The great room was just as grand as she remembered, albeit lacking its previous golden light.

The hall was empty except for three raised pedestals in the center of the room, and a red haired she-elf standing to the side. Dís glanced at her in confusion, but the dwarf princess had more pressing matters on her mind.

She strode to the raised blocks of marble and saw her deepest fears confirmed. In the center laid Thorin, their grandfather's crown placed on his brow. King under the Mountain even in death. His hands were folded across his chest clasped around the hilt of an ornate elven blade. Dís walked slowly to his side, a stuttering breath escaping her lips, and she pressed her forehead to his. He was cold and still, and Dís straightened her spine before slowly turning to face the body at the king's right.

Her eldest boy, the heir to the line of Durin, lay with a smile still touching his lips. He had always been quick to smile. His ever dancing eyes were closed, and Dís dared not open them for fear of the emptiness she would see. She brushed the hair off his forehead and remembered all the times she had scolded him for looking unkempt. His arms were placed like his uncle's, one sword in each hand. She pressed a firm kiss to each of Fili's cheeks before making her way to the third pedestal.

Kili looked peaceful, but all his usual mischievousness and mirth were absent. The elf maiden stiffened as Dís neared the body, but Master Baggins spoke a few words in elvish and the she-elf looked as if all the air had been pulled from her lungs. She gazed at Dís with such sadness that the dwarf had to look away. All thoughts of the elf were driven from her mind when she reached the side of her little son, the last piece of her soul. He had been so young and wild, not yet tempered by the harshness of the world. His hands were not folded around a sword or his bow, which was placed at his feet. Kili's hands were clasped over his stomach, and Dís carefully pulled them apart and a gasp escaped her lips when she saw the stone he had been holding. She held onto one of his cold hands as she picked up the token and rolled it over in her palm. Only then, seeing her son's broken promise, did she allow herself to break down and dissolve into sobs.

After a short while she became aware of an arm around her shoulders. Under any other circumstances she would have thrown off the hand and drew her sword, but she leaned into the touch. Usually touches were reserved for family members and mates, but Dís had neither left.  
Any small comfort was better than being alone at that moment.

She looked to the side to see it was the halfling who was embracing her. His eyes were sad and filled with understanding.

"What happened?" She whispered.

Bilbo took a breath and told the story, "Thorin had been taken by the dragon sickness. He..." the hobbit paused and sighed, "He made some mistakes. The battle was raging outside the mountain, but he remained barricaded inside. His friends and companions tried to snap him out of it, but no one could save him but himself. Just in time, he regained his senses and the company leapt forth into battle. They were truly a sight to behold." He paused in his story and smiled faintly.

"What happened next?" Dís inquired.

"Azog was up on a group of ruins directing the orc troops. Thorin knew to win the battle he would have to defeat their leader. Unfortunately, Azog knew this as well. Thorin took Dwalin, Fili, and Kili with him. They rode on great battle-rams to the orc command center. I was in the town of Dale when I saw them riding towards Azog. Two elves rode into the ruined city," he glanced at the figure still standing near Kili's body, "and they warned us of a second orc army approaching."

"I ran to warn them because I knew I could get to them without being seen." Dís looked over the halfling and decided he could be an asset in battle for running messages and alerting allies.

"I arrived at the ruins as fast as I could, and the elves took another route to assist Thorin. When I got there, Thorin was sending Fili and Kili to scout for orcs and before I could reach him and Dwalin a wave of orcs attacked. I tried to help in fighting but I was knocked to the ground and lost consciousness. When I woke, I could see no one, but the sounds of battle were still near. I rushed through halls of crumbling rock and came to an opening where I found..." He trailed off and I saw the tears return to his eyes.

"What did you find, Master Baggins?" Dís gently pressed.

"Fili's body," he whispered, "he had been run through with a sword. I later learned he was killed by Azog."

Dís worked on keeping her breathing even and nodded for Bilbo to go on.

"I climbed to a better vantage point where I saw Kili and Tauriel," he nodded at the she-elf, "fighting a large orc. I saw..." He shuddered, "I watched Kili die."

Dís gazed at the elf and saw that she was silently weeping. Oh Kili, she thought.

"On the other side of the ruins," Bilbo pressed on, "I saw Thorin and Azog. Thorin appeared to be holding his own, and he cast Azog into the freezing water beneath the ice at their feet. I rejoiced. I thought we had finally won. But then Azog burst out of the ice and injured Thorin. But he still fought," Bilbo's voice had once again dropped to a whisper, "Thorin fought like a true warrior. I ran to him as fast as I could, and I lost sight of him in the ruins. When I found him, Azog was dead and Thorin was lying on the ground, not moving. I ran to him to find he was still alive, but just barely. He used his last breath to apologize to me." Bilbo stopped and gazed at Thorin's body. There was something familiar in his eyes, and Dís breathed out slowly. He had loved her brother very much.

"Azog's goal was to wipe out the line of Durin.” Bilbo’s face fell in an admittance of defeat.

“And he failed,” Dís said, putting a hand under Bilbo’s chin. She felt a familiar fire rise in her chest. “I learned the ways of the court and sword alongside my brothers. I watched my uncle and father driven mad by grief and greed. My home was stolen from me, and my mother perished in the dragonfire. Everything in my life has been stripped away, my home, my family, my beautiful boys. But there is one thing no one can take from me. I am the sole heir to the line of Durin, and I will take my birthright.”

Bilbo looked at her in awe. “You are very much like your brother,” he said sincerely. She smiled kindly at him.

“I can tell he meant a great deal to you,” she said softly. Bilbo blushed.

“They all did,” he said, gesturing to the three bodies in the room. “I was happy to be a part of the company. If I could do it all over, I wouldn’t change a thing. I would take it all, the good and the bad.” The hobbit gazed at his fallen friends.

“Have the funeral celebrations taken place?” Dís asked, pulling Bilbo from his reminiscing. 

“Not yet, my lady.”

“Why not?” Dís cocked her head to the side.

“Well, we were waiting for you. Balin insisted they not be buried until you arrived. Gandalf, he’s a wizard, a friend of mine, he cast a spell to preserve them until you came. You were their only family.”

“I must thank him for that. If I had not been able to see my sons again I do believe it would have broken me.” She walked over to Kili and kissed his forehead lightly. Dís placed the stone back into his hands and folded them over his still heart. She pressed her forehead to Thorin’s one last time, and kissed Fili once more. “Good-bye, my family. You take part of my heart with you as you journey to the land of our forefathers.” She turned and started towards the door. “Come, Mister Baggins, there is something we need to discuss.” Bilbo hurried after her. Dís threw one last furtive look behind her to see the she-elf leaning over Kili’s body and speaking softly.

She was happy to escape the pall that room held over her. Bilbo led her through a series of tunnels into a small but cozy room cut into the stone. 

“I have been sleeping here during my stay,” he told her as he gestured for her to enter, “It seemed as if you wanted to speak privately, and I thought this is a good a place as any.” Dís nodded to him and strode to the only chair in the room. Bilbo sat on the bed and faced her.

“I thought it would be best to speak to someone with an objective opinion.” Dís said. Bilbo felt the implication that she simply meant someone who was not a dwarf.

“What do you wish to know?” he asked politely.

“What has been done, now that the King under the Mountain is dead?”

“In all honesty, no one really knows what to do.” Bilbo sighed. “A group has been acting as a council presiding over gathering the dead, helping the wounded, and starting to repair Erebor.”

“What dwarves are on this council?” Dís pressed.

“Balin, Dwalin, Gloin, Dori, Dain, a few of his advisors, and,” he paused and looked up at her, “and me.”

She raised her eyebrows. Dwarves were usually quite secretive and protective of their culture and positions of power. They must respect Mister Baggins a great deal to allow him to be a part of their rulings. “You are a fascinating creature, Master Baggins.”

He blushed again. “That is kind of you, Lady Dís. I try and help as much as I can, but it seems most time I am tasked with keeping Dwalin and Dain from killing each other. They disagree on many decisions.”

“That I have no doubt of,” Dís said as she stood. “Thank you for speaking with me, Bilbo. I would appreciate it if you would take me to see this council now.”

“Of course. I believe they are already gathered and waiting for you.” Bilbo hopped up and led Dís into the corridor. She followed silently behind him as they twisted through the many passageways in the mountain. She could see why Bilbo had chosen those rooms, they were secluded and quite out of the way.

They had turned more times than Dis could count when Bilbo opened a set of beautiful carven stone doors. Inside were all the dwarves Bilbo had named earlier staring at her expectantly. Those who were in Thorin’s company smiled at her, or, in Dwalin’s case, simply didn’t frown. She stood tall and seated herself at the head of the long table. Bilbo quietly took his place next to Balin.

“It is good to see you, cousin,” Dain said and reached across the table to grab her forearm.

“Likewise, Dain,” she said as she grasped his arm in return. “I would appreciate it if we did not waste time on pleasantries, and tended to the business at hand.”

There were murmurs of agreement from those at the table, and Dís waited for all noise to die down before speaking.

“I took only a few warriors with me from Ered Luin because I was eager to be reunited with my kin.” Her voice did not break, but those sitting around her bowed their heads. “The rest of my people will have set out and I assume will be arriving by midsummer. They are numbered many, and they will need places to stay. My people are hardworking and steadfast. There is no doubt in my mind that they will all work for the good of this kingdom.” The room had fallen silent during her speech. Dís could be just as commanding as her brother.

“Of course all of our brothers and sisters from the Blue Mountains will be welcomed here,” Balin said, “This is their home, too.”

“It will be of great help to have more craftsmen to assist in repairs.” Dain added.

Dís looked around the room and saw Bilbo smiling at her with a strange look in his eyes. She returned his gaze before continuing, “I assume, based on the present company, that there has been many a talk of who is going to succeed my brother as King under the Mountain.” Judging from the uncomfortable glances and the dwarves shifting in their seat, she had been correct. “Well, who have you nominated?” She asked.

To her surprise, Bilbo spoke up, “Dain has been hailed by his followers, and the members of the company of Thorin Oakenshield have nominated Balin for the position.” Dain sat up straight and jutted out his chest. Balin looked abashed and glanced sheepishly at Dis. It was obvious who would win out at the end of this argument. “I would like to make another nomination,” Bilbo continued.

The dwarves jumped in shock and stared at the little hobbit. He kept his gaze on Dís while the others muttered. She had a sneaking suspicion that she knew what the halfling was going to say. 

“I nominate Dís, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror, to be the ruler of Erebor, the Queen under the Mountain.”

Immediately the council erupted into shouting. Dís kept her gaze on Bilbo Baggins and saw the absolute certainty in his eyes.

“This is unheard of!” Dain shouted to no one in particular.

“A disgrace,” one of his advisors added.

Dwalin pulled Bilbo aside and spoke to him in hushed tones. Even the members of Thorin’s company looked unsure of what to say or do. Dís allowed them to shout and quarrel for a short while before raising her hands. The room fell silent as if under a spell.

“As you all know, a nomination must be seconded.” She looked around at the members at the table.

“I second, my lady,” Balin said, “and I withdraw my nomination.” The room once again fell silent and Dis stood before the council.

“My brother and my sons could have all been great kings, and their sons and their son’s sons would have ruled Erebor for hundreds of years. Sadly, fate was not on their side, and the line of Durin was left with no heir. They gave their lives so we could carry on the legacy of the dwarves and rekindle the light of the shining kingdom of old. I was there, I lived in the spender of Thror’s reign, and I lived through its destruction. With my brother and father I travelled far and wide, homeless and hopeless for a hundred years, before settling in the Blue Mountains and feeling something like belonging for the first time in a century. I mourned the loss of my father, accepting his death where my brother could not. While Thorin obsessed over regaining our homeland, I worked to make a new home for our people. I was never far from his side in all decisions and was his most trusted advisor. I begged him not to go on his foolhardy quest, and I tried my hardest to convince my sons to stay. They were brave and young and foolish, and I could not fault them for wanting to go on a quest. Nor could I fault Thorin for his need to reclaim the Lonely Mountain. When they left, I became the leader of the Blue Mountains, and for almost three years I have ruled my people. Never in our history has a female dwarf sat the throne, but why should the decisions of the past dictate every choice of the future? I am no stranger to loss, pain, or leadership. Follow me, and I will bring safety, prosperity, and happiness to our people. Dain, your place is in the Iron Hills as the lord of your people, but my place has always been here. So, the question is, will you follow me?” There was a moment of stillness as Dís finished her speech. It could not be denied that she was a leader, and a force to be reckoned with. 

The first to rise was Bilbo. He walked towards her purposefully and knelt at her feet, holding his sword up to her.

“For whatever it is worth, you have my sword, and my allegiance.” He looked up at her and smiled.

“I gladly accept both, Mister Baggins. It is truly worth very much.” 

After Bilbo came Balin, Dori, and Gloin. Dwalin followed them with shining eyes. “I will follow you, my lady,” he said as he knelt before her. 

One of Dain’s followers took a knee, then the others followed suit. Dain stared at Dís with a mix of malice and distain, but there was no mistaking the resigned admiration in his eyes. He slowly and deliberately got down on one knee and held his hammer up the Dís. “I never wanted this mountain anyway,” he said with a slight smile.

“Rise,” Dís told them all. “I thank you for your allegiance and I promise to be steadfast as iron, strong as mithril, and make a kingdom that will shine brighter than any gold.” She stood resolutely before her new followers.

Bilbo began to clap, and the rest of the room quickly joined in.

 

The coronation was arranged quickly and the ceremony was held a fortnight after Dís was accepted by the council. At her urging the funeral was set for the same day. It was a day to rejoice in all the heirs of Durin. 

She asked Bilbo to braid her hair before she was crowned. In the couple weeks she had known the hobbit, he had become a good friend to her. She never pressed about his journey, but through his far-off looks and little comments she realized the extent what he had been through, and what he had felt for her brother.

Dís went to Balin for more information and she felt a small weight off her chest when he told her how Thorin had been happy, if only for a short time. It seemed that the presence of a certain hobbit had brought back the humor and love of his youth. Bilbo Baggins was quite special.

He was quite nervous when she invited him to her chambers and when he entered to see her hair was down he blushed and looked at his feet. “My lady, I am sorry to intrude. I can come back a different time if necessary.”

She smiled at him as he blustered. “Bilbo,” she said softly, “I want you to braid my hair for the coronation. It is a great honor reserved for family and, in this case, very good friends.”

“I am extremely flattered, but I’m afraid I will muck it up quite badly,” he smiled sheepishly.

“I will help you, Bilbo. I would not rather anyone else be with me now.” The unspoken words hung in the air. Bilbo realized that without any family left, Dís must have felt very alone. He understood that. It had been a long time since he had seen another hobbit. 

She gestured for Bilbo to sit in a chair and placed herself on the ground by is feet. 

“How would you like them done?” Bilbo asked hesitantly.

Dís handed Bilbo a small velvet bag. Inside were five beautifully crafted beads. Bilbo rolled a deep blue one streaked with gold in his fingers. “Thorin,” he breathed.

She smiled to herself. “Yes, that bead belonged to my brother. The green was Fili’s, the cerulean dappled with silver was Kili’s, the black streaked with mithril was Thror’s, and the deep red was my father, Thrain’s. I will never see them again, but they will be with me always.” Bilbo gazed at the precious beads in wonder.

She had only ventured into the great hall once more. Thorin and her sons were unchanged, and silent tears fell from her cheeks as she removed their beads. She added an extra braid in each other their hair, giving them something of her to take with them in the afterlife.

Dís was lifted from her memories when Bilbo laid a tentative hand on her dark hair. “Is this alright?” he asked hesitantly.

“Of course, Bilbo. Have you ever braided before?”

“Once, when I was a young hobbit lad, my mother taught me on her hair. I remember the basic concept.” 

“I will guide you,” Dís assured him, “First, gather the hair by my temple and braid it. Do the same with the other side.” Bilbo diligently followed her directions. “Now attach Fili’s bead to one and Kili’s to the other, and attach the two braids together in the back with Thorin’s bead.” The two braids formed a circlet on her head, and her son’s beads hung next to each other beneath their uncle’s.

“They belong together,” Bilbo murmured absentmindedly.

“What was that?” Dís asked.

“Fili and Kili belong together. They refused to part in life, and would not be separated in death.”

Dís sighed gently. “Those two boys always stirred up trouble when they were young. Once, I punished them by locking them in two different rooms far away from each other. When I went to check on Fili he had broken out and freed his brother as well. You are right, they always did belong together.” She cleared her throat. “Make two larger braids on either side of my head and attach them with the last two beads.”

Bilbo nodded and swiftly finished the braids. “I don’t think it looks too bad,” he said.

“I am sure you did a wonderful job Mister Baggins. Now, it is time to put my family to rest.” She stood and walked side-by-side with Bilbo into the great hall.

He stepped to the side when they neared the pedestals and Dís was left standing alone in front of all she had ever feared. She turned from the bodies and faced the hall.

“Today we celebrate,” her voice rang out clear and steady, “we celebrate the lives of these three great warriors. They were not just our kinsmen or our friends, Thorin was our king, and my brother. Fili and Kili were my valiant sons. Tonight we bless them and hope for safe passage into the land of our forebears. We also celebrate a new chapter of our history, and the hope of prosperity to come.” She turned around and knelt before each pedestal in turn, stopping at Thorin last. “Let me be good to our people, Thorin. Lend me your strength,” she whispered.

The three dwarves were blessed in Khuzdul with words of great strength and beauty. They were then lifted onto the shoulders of the company, including Bilbo and Dis, and they started towards the tomb. Deep in the mountain a beautiful resting place had been carved into the stone, and Thorin, Fili, and Kili, were placed in marble insets. A space had been specially made so the brothers could lie together for eternity. Tears flowed down Dís’ face and her sons were sealed into the stone. She heard Bilbo’s sobs as Thorin was placed in his tomb. Dís looked around and saw tears in all the eyes around her. This company had lost much, their leader, their friends, and she saw that they needed someone to look to.

“My brothers,” she said, “we have all felt great loss and our fair share of pain. I ask you to remember Thorin, remember my sons, and remember your love for them. Do not let it keep you from living your lives. We must all carry and do good, for them.” The dwarves around her nodded in agreement.

Dís walked around the room and embraced every one of them, stopping at Bilbo. “You are stronger than you know, little hobbit,” she said as she swept away his tears. He fell into her and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. 

“I loved him,” he whispered.

“I know.”

They soon gathered themselves and travelled back into the great hall. The marble had been cleared away and a newly built throne placed in the center of the room. Mourning and sadness were stayed for a short while in place of celebration. 

Dís stood in front of the throne and gazed at the crowd of dwarves in front of her. She knew they would soon be much greater in number when her kin from the Blue Mountains arrived. These were her people, soon to be her subjects. She smiled out at the crowd.

Balin walked up to her and bowed. He was holding the crown of Thror in his hands. “My lady, if you would kneel,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Dís took a knee and held her head high as Balin placed the crown on her brow. 

“Hail Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror, Queen under the Mountain!” he shouted and the hall erupted into cheers. 

Dís beamed at all the dwarves present. They applauded her without a hint of uncertainty. 

The celebration lasted for many hours, and as the new queen was hailed, the old king was remembered. He and his sister-sons passed into legend. Dís sent up a silent prayer to them, saying a private goodbye and asking Mahal to welcome them into his halls. They deserved so much more than this, so much more life and love and happiness, but she could still smile and remember their time in her life.

And the Queen under the Mountain began her reign.


End file.
